No. 20 The Village Dance
Wide the lime-tree to the air
Spreads her boughs and foliage fair;
Thyme beneath is growing
On the verdant meadow-where
Dancers’ feet are going.
Through the grass a little spring
Runs with jocund murmuring;
All the place rejoices;
Cooling zephyrs breathe and sing
With their summer voices.
I have freely translated a second, which presents a more elaborate picture of a similar scene.